


Straw for Gold

by thenewradical



Category: Once Upon a Time (2011)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewradical/pseuds/thenewradical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Miller's Daughter got an unhappy ending the first time around and Emma's not going to let that happen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straw for Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caitrin Torres (ctorres)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctorres/gifts).



> Special thanks to htbthomas for being a lovely beta and tosca1390 for the encouragement.

 

 _Once upon a time there was a miller’s daughter who was said to make the most beautiful embroidery in the world. She had a good friend who would come and keep her company while she sewed late into the night. While they talked and laughed and whispered, her needle flowed in and out of the fabric, trailing beautiful colors in its wake._

 _The miller was proud of his daughter’s talent, but he was prone to exaggeration. One night at the local tavern, after too many ales, he told a hooded man about his daughter’s talent. “She could embroider a picture of this room and you would think you were looking at the real thing,” he slurred to the man. “And she’s resourceful! She makes all of her own yarn on that spinning wheel.” He took a deep drag of his ale. “She can even,” he said conspiratorially, “spin straw into gold.”_

 _The miller didn't find it strange that the man made him write down his name and address and by the next morning he had forgotten the conversation had happened._

 _The man in the hood had not._

 _The next morning, the miller's daughter was spinning thread with the help of her friend. They were laughing so hard over the miller's drunken antics the previous night that they did not hear the horses and did not realize there was anyone outside until there was a knock on the door._

 _The miller's daughter made her best attempt to stop laughing, but couldn't help letting out a little giggle when she opened the door. "May I help you?"_

 _There were several men in uniform outside. Most of them were on horseback surrounding a carriage, except for the one who knocked on the door._

 _"Are you the miller's daughter?" the man asked. She responded that she was. "I've heard that you are talented with a needle. I have someone here who is very interested in your work." He gestured to the carriage waiting outside._

 _"Bring her forward," a man’s voice from said from the coach. The man led her towards the carriage. When she was even with the door she realized that there was a small open window on the side. She peered in and gasped. It was the king._

 _"Your majesty," she said, curtseying awkwardly. "To what do we owe this honor?"_

 _"My chief of staff met your father last night," the king said, lazily pointing towards the man at her door. "He had some very interesting things to say about your work."_

 _"My father is very kind--"_

 _"He said you could spin straw into gold."_

 _The miller's daughter felt the earth fall from under her. "He said what?"_

 _"There's no need to hide it from me," the king laughed. "Especially since I'm interested in hiring you for that talent."_

 _"I'm afraid there's been some sort of misunderstanding," she said breathlessly._

 _"What misunderstanding," the king asked. "He told Geoffrey that you could spin straw into gold and I assume that is true. After all, lying to the king's chief of staff is like lying to the king. And both carry the same punishment."_

 _Panicked, she tried to think of a way to get out of this, but she could not come up with an excuse. Even if she told him her father was drunk at the time, the king still might kill him; he was not well-known for his kindness. She was almost grateful that her father was still sleeping off the ale; the last thing she needed was for him to dig them into a deeper hole._

 _Realizing that she had no other choice, she said "I would be more than happy to help you, your majesty.”  She hoped he didn't hear the panic in her voice._

 _"Excellent," the king said. "You shall come with me at once." Before she knew what was happening, the miller's daughter had been put into the carriage and the horses set off. She was able to get one last glance at her best friend, who looked terrified. The miller's daughter tried to reassure her with a smile, but she knew it was no use._

 _When she arrived at the castle, the miller’s daughter was forced into a straw-filled cell in the dungeon and told that every speck of hay should be replaced with gold by morning or she would suffer the consequences._

 _Left alone in the dark dungeon, she began to sob._

 _“What’s this? A pretty girl like you should never cry.”_

 _Her head whipped around. Leaning nonchalantly against the spinning wheel was a man. Or not really a man, she realized. He didn’t look quite human. “Is there anything I can help you with,” he asked casually, as though it wasn’t at all strange that he had appeared there out of thin air._

 _“Can you spin straw into gold?” she asked with a teary laugh._

 _“It’s one of my skills,” he said. She thought she was joking but another look at him proved that he was serious._

 _“Can you really? Oh, could you please help me? My father lied and told the king I can spin straw into gold and if I don’t, he’ll kill me and my father.”_

 _“Funny that you want to save your father,” the strange man pointed out, “when he got you into this situation.”_

 _“Well, he is my father and he couldn’t help it--” her voice faltered and the man gave her a pointed look. “I just really want to get out of here and be with my best friend. Forever.”_

 _The man nodded. “Your story has touched me. I will spin this straw into gold for you_ if _you give me something in return.”_

 _“Oh,” she said. “Could I pay you after I’m free? I don’t have anything on me now.”_

 _“What about that lovely ring?”_

 _It was her mother’s wedding ring. She never would have dreamed of giving it away, but if that’s what it took…_

 _“Well then,” the man said after she handed it to him. “Let’s get to work.”_

 _The next morning the king found a dungeon filled with spools of gold. “Wonderful,” he exclaimed. The miller’s daughter was released from the dungeon, but instead of being sent home she was bathed and pampered and given a very nice new dress and fed a very nice meal. She thought that perhaps this was part of her payment, but when night fell she was led back to the dungeon which was filled with more straw than before. “I’m extending your contract,” the king said as the door was shut on her. “See you in the morning.”_

 _The miller’s daughter sank down onto the steps in despair. Perhaps she could tell him that it was a feat she could only perform rarely, and never two nights in a row._

 _“Needing my services again?”_

 _She jumped. The strange man was standing right behind her. “You startled me! And yes, but I have even less to pay you with now. Although,” she looked down, “I’m sure this dress is very expensive.”_

 _He shook his head no. “I’m much more interested in that necklace.”_

 _Her hand instinctively went to the necklace at her throat. It was very plain, just some cheap metal with colorful string woven around it. Her friend had made it for her years ago and she always wore it. “I’m afraid it’s not worth much…”_

 _The man shrugged. “Sentimental value is its own currency,”_

 _She considered telling him no, but she knew that she had no choice. No matter what she told the king, he would still punish her if she did not deliver on her father’s promise. And her friend would understand._

 _Still, her hands shook when she handed over the necklace and she regarded the man warily as he got to work._

 _The next day was the same as the previous. She had whirlwind day of praise and spoiling at the castle and was then gracelessly deposited in the dungeon at night._

 _She was expecting the strange man this time and did not jump or scream when he appeared._

 _“They’ve promised me that this is the last time,” she told him._

 _“In that case I have a final offer,” he said.  
_

 _“I don’t have anything to give you now, sentimental or otherwise.”_

 _“Now we both know that’s not true,” he said with an unsettling laugh. He leaned in close to her and whispered, “There’s always your happiness.”_

 _She recoiled from him. “That can’t be given.”_

 _“Well, then there’s no harm in promising me that in exchange for a room full of gold thread, you’ll give me your happiness.” He giggled as he said it._

 _Though he had helped her, the miller’s daughter did not trust this man. She knew there was a catch, but the desire to go home was too strong. And after all, there was no way he could actually_ take _her happiness. “You have a deal,” she said._

 _His smile scared her._

 _The next morning, the king took one look at the gold and said that the only possible reward for a woman who had done so much for the kingdom was for him to marry her at once and free her from the common life she’d once had. The preparations began immediately and the miller’s daughter slowly began to realize that she was not going home. She would never see her father and she was never going to be with her friend again._

 _She lived in the castle until the day she died._

 

\---

 

“Kind of a downer story, kid.”

Henry closed the book. He had insisted on reading the story to Emma that morning at the diner. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t really like the ones with unhappy endings.”

“Probably more realistic, though,” Mary Margaret said. She’d been in a bad mood since the whole situation with David had come to an end (not to mention her attempt at a one-night stand with Dr. Whale), but Emma thought that she had a point.

“Seriously,” Ruby said as she refilled their hot chocolate. She had come over to the table near the end of the story and gotten sucked in. “Those princesses never have a chance to date around or anything.”

“Amen to that,” Emma said as Ruby left. She turned back to Henry. “So why read the story to us if you hate it?”

“I have a theory on who the Miller’s Daughter is,” Henry answered matter-of-factly. “But I need to do some extra research before I know for sure.”

Mary Margaret looked at her watch. “Not until after school,” she said as she started to gather together her things and nudged Henry out of the booth.

“Have a good day,” Emma said to her. Mary Margaret gently squeezed her shoulder in response as she left the booth.

“I’ll update you on O.C. when I have more information,” Henry said to her in a whisper.

“O.C.?” Henry dramatically raised his eyebrows and gave her a look. “Oh right. I didn’t know we were abbreviating it now.”

“Of course we are,” Henry said. “We have to keep changing it up.” He gave her a big wave goodbye as Mary Margaret guided him out of the restaurant.

He was a weird kid, but he was really growing on Emma. She knew that after everything that had happened last week, these breakfasts with him were risky, but she liked spending time with him.

And anyway, Emma was feeling reckless.

As Emma walked down the street toward the sheriff’s department, she tried thinking about Mary Margaret, and Henry, and even his fairy tales, just so that she didn’t have to think about Graham.

It had been a week since he died and not thinking about him was very hard, beyond the obvious trauma of seeing someone die in front of her. She kept telling Mary Margaret that she was fine, but truthfully, Emma had no idea. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel about the death of someone she sort of liked, then hated, then really liked. So she had settled on not thinking about him at all. Denial was a powerful tool.

Unfortunately, her new job as sheriff was making that hard. It was horrible having to be in the place where Graham died every day. It didn’t help that Regina was actively trying to get her to quit. Emma was really tempted to, but then she remembered that Graham had offered her the deputy job for a reason and she needed to step up to his expectations.

So she and Regina had come to a tentative agreement that Emma would be the interim sheriff until someone better suited to the job was found. Given that she hadn’t been replaced yet, Emma guessed that this was proving to be harder than Regina had thought. While she wasn’t totally ready to accept Henry’s fairy tale theory, Emma did think it was weird that Regina didn’t bring in someone from outside of Storybrooke to take over as sheriff.

Emma was a block away from the station when she was pulled out of her thoughts by raised voices. It looked like it was coming from the bakery. A second later a man stormed out, looking upset.

This probably fell under her official capacity as interim sheriff.

Emma walked into the store. It was exactly what she would expect a bakery in this town to look like: charming, cute, and vaguely reminiscent of _Pushing Daisies_. The only thing sticking out was the flustered woman behind the counter. When she saw Emma she attempted to brighten up. “Good morning! What can I help you with today? I just took a loaf of pumpkin chocolate chip bread out of the oven…”

“It’s more like what I can help you with,” Emma said in her most official voice and flashed her badge. Doing her best _Law & Order_ impression sounded ridiculous so she switched tactics. “Everything okay? That guy looked pretty upset when he left.”

“Oh, Richard?” The woman just shrugged. “He’s been trying to ask me out the past couple of weeks. He didn’t believe me when I told him I have a girlfriend.”

“Well, some guys can’t take a hint. Or,” Emma amended, “blatant factual statements.”

The woman laughed. “Tell me about it. I’m Abigail Pace, by the way.”

Emma shook her hand. “I’m Emma Swan, the new sheriff.”

“I know,” Abigail said. “I mean, it’s hard not to.”

“I’ve never been very good at subtle,” Emma shrugged. She looked behind Abigail at the racks of bread and even though she’d just had breakfast, she felt her stomach rumble. “Did you mention something about pumpkin chocolate chip bread earlier?”

“I’ll grab you a slice,” Abigail answered with a laugh. She came back a minute later with a generous slice of bread, which she placed in a paper bag and handed over to Emma. She pulled out her wallet but Abigail waved her off. “It’s on the house. But definitely not a bribe.”

“If this counts as a bribe, I’m willing to go corrupt,” Emma said. “And speaking of, I should probably get to the station.” As she was leaving, she turned back to Abigail. “Hey, if that Richard guy bugs you again, give me a call.”

“Will do, Sheriff,” Abigail said with a little salute.

The bread proved to be the highlight of her day. Being sheriff was kind of boring. She spent most of her time at the station, with a couple of outings to deal with parking violations. Emma was starting to miss being a bounty hunter. Sure, it could be dangerous and there were a lot of skeezballs to deal with, but it kept her busy. Here, she didn’t like being alone with her thoughts; she kept thinking about Graham and Regina and everything she had gotten herself into.  

So it was a relief when she was finally able to go back to Mary Margaret’s that evening.

“There’s lasagna in the oven,” Mary Margaret said when Emma came in. She was sitting on the couch with a pile of art projects.

Emma made herself a plate and collapsed on the couch next to Mary Margaret. “Do you mind if I turn on the TV?”

“No, I’m almost done with these,” Mary Margaret answered.

Emma eyed the art projects. “Are you really grading those?”

“Not grading,” Mary Margaret corrected her. “Commenting and encouraging. And don’t laugh; it’s really helpful for the kids.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Emma shrugged. They both sat in silence while Emma channel-surfed. There seemed to be an excessive number of romantic comedies on. Emma quickly flipped past them all before settling on a film noir on the old movie channel.

They listened to Clifton Webb tell a detective about the woman who’d done him wrong before she was murdered.

“This week has really sucked,” Emma said quietly.

Mary Margaret nodded. “This whole month has.”

It got worse the next morning.

Before Mary Margaret left for work she gave Emma a note from Henry. “I’m sorry; I meant to give it to you yesterday. I hope he’s not too upset, he said it was urgent.”

Emma took the note. As she read it, Mary Margaret wondered aloud “Am I your mule now?” Emma didn’t look up from the paper. “What does the note say?”

“Um, yeah,” Emma said, giving herself a slight shake. “Henry thinks he found out who the Miller’s Daughter is.”

“Who is it?”

“He says it’s Abigail, the woman who owns the bakery.” Emma was staring at the note.

“Hm. Well, I’m sure he has his reasons,” Mary Margaret said. When Emma didn’t respond, she asked “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” Emma said slowly. “It’s just that yesterday I saw her fighting with some guy she said kept trying to ask her out. And now…”

“You can’t stop thinking about the story from Henry’s book,” Mary Margaret finished for her.

“I’m crazy, right?”

“No,” Mary Margaret said gently. “You have all these new responsibilities now so you’re more invested in other people’s lives than you’re used to. It’s natural that you would make a connection between Abigail and the story. And,” she added softly, “you’ve had a tough week.”

“Yeah,” Emma mused. Mary Margaret smiled and hugged her. Emma leaned into her and sighed. When she pulled away, she said “I think I’m gonna go by the bakery. Just in case.”

“That sounds good,” Mary Margaret said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

As Mary Margaret left, Emma thought about how comforting it was to talk to her.

Emma went out of her way to walk by the bakery on her way to work only to find it closed. She knocked on the door but there was no response and all the lights were off.

Emma was tempted to break in, but she was pretty sure that she needed a warrant or probable cause to do that, and she had neither. Instead, she wrote down the number listed on the bakery’s sign and called it when she got to the station.

Of course there was no answer. It just rang ten times until a machine picked up. Emma kept listening in the hopes that it would list an alternate number, but no luck (“Storybrooke Bakery is currently closed. Our hours are eight A.M. to four P.M. Please come to the store with any order requests…”).

Emma took a deep breath and tried to think over the situation logically. Just because the bakery was closed didn’t mean that something bad had happened; maybe Abigail just felt like taking a day off. It wasn’t productive to focus on something that might not have happened.

Still, Emma had trouble concentrating as the day wore on. As usual there was very little official business to be done; the most urgent call she got was from a man whose cat had run away (although he kept pointing out that it wasn’t actually his cat; his dad had given it to him before he died). The most Emma could do for him was to suggest putting up signs and promising to keep an eye out for it.

Eventually she broke down and tried to look up Abigail's contact information on the eerily comprehensive database on the computer. Regina would want to make it easy to keep tabs on people, Emma thought.

Unfortunately, all she was able to get for Abigail was a cell phone number which went straight to voicemail when Emma tried calling it. She awkwardly left a voicemail, still unsure of this was overreaching or not.

"Hi Abigail, this is Sheriff Swan. I saw that the bakery was closed this morning and I just wanted to make sure that everything was fine. Please give me a call at the station when you can. Thanks."

After she hung up, she stared at the computer in frustration. She wished that she knew Abigail's girlfriend's name, because that would make things a lot easier. Unfortunately, that was not listed in her contact information. There was an address though...

Emma glanced at the clock; it was close to two which meant that she was supposed to go on her rounds soon. She checked the address again. It looked like it was on the far side of town, but she could justify going over there just to check in. The trip would be worth it just for the peace of mind.

Before she had a chance to get her things together, a woman burst into the station. She had a look of absolute panic on her face and Emma had a bad feeling she knew who this was.

"You're the new sheriff, right?" she asked Emma, and then started up again before she had a chance to answer. "My girlfriend's missing. I saw her when she went to work this morning and I when I went to meet her for lunch the bakery was closed and she won't pick up her cell phone. You have to help me."

Emma took a deep breath. "Okay, why don't you sit down, Ms...?"

"West," the woman said distractedly. "Nicole West."

"Your girlfriend is Abigail Pace, right?" Nicole nodded. "So the last time you saw her was this morning. What time was that?"

"It was a little after seven," Nicole told her. "She likes walking to the bakery because it's good exercise. I bet she took the trail behind the woods," she moaned. "I've said that it's creepy, but she never listens to me."

Emma went to a storage cabinet behind her desk. After a frantic search she pulled out the map of Storybrooke. "Can you show me where this trail is? If something happened to her, that's the best place to start."

Nicole peered down at the map. Finally, she put her finger down at the edge of the woods. "It starts around there, behind our neighbor's house. And then it just goes along the inside of the forest for about a mile." Nicole looked up at Emma, worry etched on her face. "What do you think happened to her?"

Emma wasn't sure how much she was supposed to say, so she erred on the side of caution. "Probably nothing too bad. She might have sprained her ankle or something on the walk over and can't get in touch with anyone. I'm sure the cell phone reception in the woods is horrible. But," she said cautiously, "has she mentioned anything strange lately? Anyone she was worried about?"

"She mentioned a guy who kept coming to the bakery, but she said he was harmless. You don't think he did--" Nicole gasped.

Emma quickly shook her head. "It's too early to say anything but I have to ask these questions. I'm going to head out to the trail to see if she's there."

"Can I come with you," Nicole asked.

"No," Emma said forcefully. "I mean, it might be best if you went to the bakery. The last thing we want is for her to turn up there and have no idea we're looking for her."

Nicole nodded. "Good idea." She left with a promise from Emma that she would check in as frequently as she could.

Trying to shake off her sense of dread, Emma headed toward the bakery. Maybe while she was on the trail Emma would find someone who would talk to her.

As soon as she walked onto the trail, Emma could see why Nicole had called it creepy. Very little sunlight broke through the leaves and the path was covered by broken branches. It clearly had fallen out of popular use and Emma's hope that she would run into someone who could help her diminished.

"You can still find Abigail on the trail," she reminded herself. “You don’t know that this is an abduction.”

Emma started down the trail, carefully watching her step. She really wished Graham was here; he knew way more about tracking than she did (she avoided thinking about any other reasons she might want him there). She tried her hardest to look for clues, or signs of struggle, or _anything_ , but she had no idea what to look for. By the time she was halfway down the path she was convinced that it was a dead end. "If only I could track her credit card," she grumbled. "Then this would be much easier."

"There's something to be said for fieldwork."

Emma whipped around, ready to punch whoever had snuck up on her. She let out a breath when she saw that it was Mr. Gold.

"Sorry if I startled you," he said. He was holding a shovel and there was a pile of flower pots next to him.

"That’s an odd place to start a garden," Emma said.

"It's an experiment," he explained dismissively. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yeah, have you seen this woman?" She handed him the picture of Abigail that Nicole had given to her before she left.

"That's Abigail Pace," Mr. Gold said. "Why are you looking for her?"

"She's missing," said Emma.

"Oh dear," Mr. Gold said. "Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"Unfortunately, no. I was hoping to find her on the trail." Looking at Mr. Gold, Emma was struck with a sudden thought. "Do you know a man named Richard, by any chance? About 5'10", brown hair, kind of short beard?"

Mr. Gold didn't immediately answer and Emma knew she had hit pay dirt. "That sounds like my nephew."

Emma groaned inwardly. Of course Mr. Gold would be involved with this somehow. "Have you seen him today?"

"No, not since this morning. You don't think he's involved do you?"

Emma ignored that question and asked, "Has he talked about any women that he's interested in?"

Mr. Gold nodded slightly. "He mentioned a young lady a couple of times but didn't elaborate. I decided not to push. He can be...emotional."

Emma was sure now that Richard had Abigail. "Do you have any idea where he currently is?"

"He said he was going on a nature walk this morning," Mr. Gold provided. "Although..."

"What?" When he didn't answer, Emma pressed harder. "Mr. Gold, Abigail's life may be at risk."

"A couple of years ago Richard bought some land in the woods. He talked about building a cabin for himself out there. Unfortunately, I don't know where this plot of land is; I thought it would be best to let him be autonomous. The Mayor should know where it is." 

“Thank you,” Emma said gratefully. “I need to get into town. What’s the best way to get back to the main road?”

Mr. Gold pointed her in the right direction. But before she set off, he stopped her. "Please let me know if you find her."

"Concerned citizen?"

"She's a family friend," Mr. Gold said lightly. "I sold her the store that she turned into the bakery."

"Of course you did," Emma muttered under her breath. She added in at normal volume, “I’ll be sure to let everyone know when we find her.”

Emma headed back toward the main road, fully aware of how bad this was. The one good thing was that if Henry was right about no one being able to leave Storybrooke, Richard couldn’t have taken Abigail too far. This also meant that she would have to talk to Regina.

Emma started to jog toward the mayor’s office, cursing her decision not to take her car. As if on cue, Mary Margaret’s car turned the corner and Emma waved her down.

Mary Margaret rolled down the window. “What’s wrong?”

“Drive me to the mayor’s office as fast as you can. I’ll explain on the way,” Emma told her, scrambling to the other side to get in. As soon as she closed the door, Mary Margaret stepped on the gas. “I think Abigail was kidnapped by that creepy guy.”

Emma had to hand it to her, Mary Margaret kept her cool. She kept up a steady stream of questions and didn’t even blink an eye when they took a hairpin turn a little too quickly.

Not three minutes later they braked to a sudden stop in front of the mayor’s office. “Thanks,” Emma yelled behind her as she jumped out and shut the door.

“Hey,” Mary Margaret shouted. Emma turned back. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Abigail’s girlfriend Nicole is at the bakery. Could you go stay with her? Just tell her that we’ve got a lead and not to worry. Too much.”

Mary Margaret nodded and they both sped off.

Emma ran up the steps and into the building. City Hall wasn’t too big and it didn’t take long to find Regina’s office. Unfortunately, it was locked.

“She’s on the phone.” Emma hadn’t noticed Henry sitting on the bench next to the door. “What’s up?”

“You were right,” Emma said in a rush, knocking on the door again. “Regina! Open up!”

“About Abigail?” Henry briefly looked delighted but his face fell. “Has something happened to her?”

Emma had no idea how to tell Henry that Abigail had been kidnapped without potentially traumatizing him. She settled on “Someone’s trying to keep her from getting a happy ending again.”

Henry’s eyes widened. He joined Emma at the door and knocked as hard as he could. “Mom!”

“Regina, it’s an emergency,” Emma yelled. She raised her fist to bang on the door again right as Regina opened it. Thank god for good reflexes; punching Regina in the face (again) would not be a good move at the moment.

“What do you want?” Regina hissed.

“Abigail Pace has been kidnapped.” As soon as Emma said it, Regina dropped the menacing face.

“Do you know who did it?” She opened the door to her office all the way and let Emma come inside. Henry tried to follow but Regina stopped him. “Henry, you need to wait outside.”

Emma came to stand in front of her desk. “I think it was Mr. Gold’s nephew, Richard. Apparently he has some sort of cabin out in the forest somewhere, but Mr. Gold doesn’t know where it is. He said you would know.”

Regina reached for her phone. “Get me the property maps for the city,” she commanded. A minute later a secretary brought a large book in. “Thank you,” Regina murmured, already flipping through the pages. She stopped and turned book so that it faced Emma. “He bought this plot of land two years ago.” She ripped the pages out of the book and grabbed a highlighter. “This will be the best way to get there,” she said as she highlighted a route through the forest. “You’ll have to walk part of it; it’s too rocky for a car.”

Emma looked at the clock on the wall, already starting to formulate a plan. “I’ll leave now, then. I don’t want to have to deal with this guy in the dark.”

“Are you going on your own,” Regina asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Emma responded, grabbing the map. “I’m bringing Archie.” It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but the second the words were out of her mouth she realized how sensible it was. Hostage negotiations were all psychology and she was going to be out of her league without him.

“What?” Regina shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“Mr. Gold implied that Richard has some issues and I’m not qualified to talk to kidnappers. Having a therapist on board will be a huge help.” Regina didn’t look like she was going to budge, so Emma tried another tactic. “Look, I know you don’t like me and you don’t want me to have this job. But this isn’t about us. Someone’s life is in danger and it’s my job to find her. If you forbid me to take Archie, I won’t be able to do that job effectively.”

Emma could see Regina’s jaw tighten, but she nodded in approval. “You’re right. You can take Archie, but be careful. I don’t want this to go bad because of amateur mistakes.”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes and headed out of the office. Henry was waiting for her when she got out. “I’m coming with you,” he said.

“No way,” Emma said. “It’s too dangerous. You’re staying here.”

“But I want to help,” Henry pleaded.

“You can help us by staying safe, okay?” Emma jerked her head in the direction of Regina’s office. “Go stay with your mother.”

Henry gave in dejectedly. “Okay. But don’t forget the story! The King never realized that he’d done something wrong. The man who took Abigail might think the same way.”

Emma took that in. He might be onto something “I’ll keep that in mind, kid.” She tried giving him an encouraging smile and then ran out of the building.

Thankfully it didn’t take long to find Archie, although it took some convincing to get him to come with her.

“There has to be someone more qualified than I am,” he said as he started up his car. “The most I know about abductions is from a criminal psychology class I audited in grad school.”

“Then that makes you a lot more qualified than anyone else in this town,” Emma pointed out. She looked at the map Regina had given her. “Turn left.”

Archie drove as far into the forest as he was able to before he had to stop his car, but according to the map they still had a ways to go. Emma kept looking from the map to the woods in front of her, trying to match up the two.

“I think I found a trail,” Archie said. He pointed it out to Emma; a small path had been cleared that seemed to correspond with the one Regina drew on the map.

“That’s probably where we need to go,” Emma said and she slipped the map back into her pocket where it fit snugly next to her handcuffs.  “How fast can you run?”

Archie winced. “Nine-minute mile.”

“No day like today to improve that time,” Emma said. “Let’s go.”

They took off down the trail. It was almost completely clear of any branches, which made Emma feel more confident that they were going in the right direction. They made good time, although Archie was wheezing by the end. Soon they came upon a clearing with a cabin in the center. There was smoke coming out of the chimney and it looked almost charming, if one forgot about the kidnapper inside.

Emma and Archie ducked behind a bush and peered over it. Emma felt like she was back in her element for the first time since she came to Storybrooke; she was used to figuring out a creep’s next move. There was just slightly more at stake than usual.

“What’s your plan?” Archie whispered.

“Go in, arrest him, get Abigail out, and pray that he doesn’t have a weapon.”

“Oh he wouldn’t,” Archie said. “I don’t think he’s prone to violent tendencies.”

“You sound really confident of that…” Emma trailed off as realization dawned on her. “You’ve treated him, haven’t you?” She took his silence for a yes. “Archie! Why didn’t you tell me on the way here?”

“It’s not right to reveal patient details—” he began but Emma cut him off.

“Don’t you think the right thing to do is to tell doctor-patient privilege to take a hike?” It was probably too harsh, but it had the desired effect. Archie got a faraway look in his eyes and then shook himself out of it.

“I was seeing him regularly for a year but he stopped coming to our sessions a couple of months ago—against my recommendation,” Archie said. “Richard is obsessive and impulsive. He doesn’t give much thought to how his actions impact others—” that sound like what Henry had told her—“but he never displayed violent behavior. He is very charming when he needs to be. My guess is that he lured her out here and found a way to get her inside the house.”

“But you said he hasn’t been to your sessions in a while,” Emma said and Archie nodded. “So he could have changed?”

“Yes,” Archie said cautiously. “He could have.”

They turned their attention back to the cabin. A figure passed by the window; even from a distance Emma could tell that it was Richard. She looked over at Archie and mouthed, “We move once he’s gone.”

A moment later Richard disappeared from the window and they sprinted for the door. Emma tried the knob but it was locked.

“I guess I’ll just have to bust in,” Emma groaned, not entirely sure of her ability to do that.

“Don’t! I have an idea.” Emma looked at Archie quizzically. “Trust me on this one,” he whispered to her.

In what was either a very smart or very stupid move, Archie knocked on the door.

There were muffled sounds of a scramble inside and then Richard’s voice at the door. “Who is it?”

“Hi, Richard, it’s Dr. Hopper,” Archie said and Emma was surprised at how light he managed to keep his voice. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I heard that you might be in trouble and I wanted see if I could help.”

“Are you alone?”

Archie looked over at Emma and then said “No, Sheriff Swan is with me.”

“She can’t come in!”

Richard sounded nervous, but Emma looked over at Archie and hissed, “I’m coming in.”

“I think it would be best if she came in with me,” Archie said calmly.

There was a long silence. Finally, Richard relented. “I’m opening the door.” The door swung open and Emma braced herself for what she would find inside.

The good news was that Richard did not appear to have a weapon and there weren’t any menacing pools of blood anywhere. The bad news was that Abigail was tied to a chair.

Emma rushed over to her. Abigail wasn’t gagged and told her “I’m okay; he didn’t hurt me.”

“That’s good, because there are a lot of people who will be happy to see you in one piece.” Emma started to untie the ropes binding her hands behind the chair.

“Hey!” Archie had immediately engaged Richard when they came in, but Richard must have seen her untying Abigail. “She’s staying here with me!”

“No she isn’t,” Emma told him.

“Why do you think she’s supposed to stay with you” Archie asked, trying to re-engage him.

“She’s perfect!” When Richard turned to look at Archie, Emma tool the opportunity and untied Abigail’s bonds even faster.

“Do you know if she feels the same way about you?” Archie inquired.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because you tied her to a chair?” Emma couldn’t help herself. She had freed Abigail but put a hand on her shoulder as she stood up. Abigail took the hint and stayed seated. 

“That is a good point,” Archie said gently. “Why would you hurt someone you care about?”

“I didn’t hurt her,” Richard said desperately. Emma looked at Abigail who nodded in agreement.

“Then how did you get her here?”

“I told her that my dog was injured and I needed her help. I lied, I’m so sorry.” Richard directed the last comment at Abigail.

“I can’t believe I fell for that,” Abigail grumbled. “I’m such an idiot.”

“This is not your fault,” Emma said to her quietly. “You’re not the bad guy here, he is.”

Apparently her comments weren’t quiet enough. “I am not the bad guy!” Richard looked scandalized.

“But you have to understand,” Archie said, “You broke the law and you scared a lot of people. Your actions have consequences.

“I know, but I’m doing it for the right reasons,” Richard pleaded.

“Have you asked Abigail how she feels about it?” asked Archie.

“No,” Richard said, looking confused. “Why would I? She loves me.”

“But I don’t love you,” Abigail said, standing up. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

Emma moved in front of Abigail, bracing for Richard to explode. To her surprise, Richard didn’t turn violent. Instead, his face fell. “But you have to,” he muttered. “You’re supposed to.”

“No one’s supposed to love anybody,” Emma pointed out.

“And even if you were,” Abigail said, “I’ve already found that person.”

Richard looked gutted. For a second Emma felt bad for him, but then she remembered everything he’d done and the feeling passed.

“Sheriff Swan, why don’t you take Abigail outside,” Archie said, not looking away from Richard.

“Archie, I think I should stay,” Emma said.

“This falls under my purview now,” Archie said confidently.

Emma wanted to argue, but she also knew that she needed to get Abigail out of there. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

She and Abigail quickly left the cabin. Emma left the door cracked open so that she could at least hear what was going on. It didn’t make much of a difference; they were talking too quietly for her to hear. The most she could make out was Richard saying “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

Abigail had taken her phone out of her pocket and was holding it up towards the sky. “No reception,” she groaned. “I really need to call Nicole.”

“Reception should clear up once we get out of the woods,” Emma told her. Abigail put her phone back and then stretched her arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asked.

“Just sore,” Abigail said. “And I really want to get home.”

“It’s going to take a bit of a walk, but you’ll be home soon.” Emma neglected to mention that Abigail might have to share a car with her kidnapper. She really should have planned this better. “Nicole’s waiting for you at the bakery.”

Abigail smiled sadly. “Was she freaked out?”

“Yeah,” Emma said. “But I’m a little more worried about you right now.”

“I’m fine,” Abigail said, but her voice shook when she spoke again. “The whole time I was in there I knew that it couldn’t be the end. I just knew that there are enough people who care about me and that they would come find me. It was my job to hold him off until they did. I guess that kept me from getting too scared.”

Emma opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Archie’s shout from inside. “We’re coming out now,” Abigail moved closer to the path, not that Emma could blame her.

Richard came out first with his hands held above his head, Archie following close behind. “He’s agreed to be taken into custody.”

Emma pulled out her handcuffs. “That’s not really his decision.” But Richard was surprisingly obliging, turning around and putting his hands behind his back so she could cuff him. “What’d you say to him?” she whispered to Archie.

“We just had a conversation about choices,” Archie said.

“Any interest in being deputy?” she asked, only half-joking. “Okay, why don’t you go on ahead with Abigail and I’ll follow behind with Richard. And then we’re going to have to figure out how to transport them both out of the woods.”

“All right,” Archie said. He looked at Richard. “Remember what we talked about.”

Richard didn’t respond. He didn’t say anything to Emma as they watched Abigail and Archie walk down the path. Emma recognized the behavior; she’d seen it in a lot of guys who realized that the jig was up.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he muttered as they started to walk.

“Life never is,” Emma said brusquely.

“But we had a deal,” Richard said.

“What?” Emma asked, but Richard wouldn’t answer. She was starting to think that the cell in the sheriff’s station would not be the best place to keep him. And she definitely could not put him in the same car as Abigail, even if it was only a five minute ride back into town.

Once they reached the end of the trail, Emma realized she wouldn’t have to worry about that. When Abigail and Archie went around the last corner she heard an outbreak of applause. When Emma rounded it, she saw that at least half the population of Storybrooke was waiting for them.

News really did travel fast here.

Nicole had already broken out of the crowd and launched herself at Abigail to hug her. Emma smiled to herself as she tried to weave through the crowd with Richard, Archie hot on her heels. They got him into the back of Archie’s car (now joined by several other cars, thank god) and closed it soundly.

Before she locked the door, Emma thought she saw Mr. Gold on the edge of the crowd. But when she looked back up, he was gone. She remembered what Richard had said about having a deal with someone.

She was definitely going to have to invite Mr. Gold down to the station for questioning.

She turned away from the car and stood with Archie to look at Abigail, who was now surrounded by her friends. “Case closed. We make a good team,” Emma said to Archie.

“Yes,” Archie responded. “Although I think I prefer my practice over this sort of field work.”

Judging by the smile on his face when several people swarmed Archie to shake his hand, Emma thought he might be lying.

She looked back over to Abigail and Nicole and saw that Regina had approached them.

“We’re so glad you’re back safely,” Regina said. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through this ordeal and if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” She turned towards Emma, who had quietly joined the group. Regina looked her up and down and then said slowly, “Thank you for all your hard work, Sheriff Swan.”

She extended her hand and Emma shook it. “You’re very welcome, Madame Mayor.” She turned to Abigail. “Don’t worry about coming in to give your statement tonight. Just get some rest and come by in the morning.”

“Thank you so much,” Nicole said, shaking Emma’s hand. “For everything.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Emma said, and she was struck by how natural it felt to say it. There was still a heavy part of her that felt like it was wrong to do this without Graham, but she knew that if she kept thinking like that, the job wouldn’t get done.

She hugged Abigail goodbye before the two left to talk to Archie. Regina started to walk away, but Emma stopped her. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course,” Regina said. They pulled away from the crowd. “What is it?”

“I don’t feel comfortable keeping Richard in custody here,” Emma said quietly. “He isn’t stable and I think it would be better if he were sent to a specialized facility before his arraignment.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll make sure he’s taken to the appropriate prison.” Regina’s tone was formal but Emma could sense menace behind it. Emma thought about how no one could leave Storybrooke. Before she could ask where Richard was going to be sent, Regina had already left.

Emma made a mental note to observe every step of Richard’s transfer. “Case not closed,” she muttered.

She considered heading back to the station to get a head start on the paperwork, but Emma changed her mind when saw Mary Margaret leaning against her car, talking to Ruby.

“Hey!” Mary Margaret made space for her when Emma walked up.

“Congratulations, Sheriff,” Ruby said.

“How did you guys know to come here?” Emma asked.

“Nicole practically stormed Regina’s office,” Mary Margaret explained. “She demanded to know where you had gone to look for Abigail. We got as far as here and then I convinced her it might be best to wait.”

“Mr. Gold had already told a couple of people that Abigail was missing,” Ruby added. “And so when we saw Nicole and Mary Margaret driving towards the woods, word got out. What can I say, we like to celebrate around here.”

Emma thought about this for a moment. “What if this hadn’t ended so nicely?”

Ruby shrugged. “We like morbid endings too. But this is better.”

“Are you going to need a ride home,” Mary Margaret asked.

“No,” Emma sighed. “I should probably skip the celebration. Archie’s car isn’t the most secure place to keep a criminal.” Emma promised to come home as early as she could and headed back toward the impromptu police car.

As she walked over there, Henry sidled up to her. He had his backpack and she could see the book poking out of it.

“Thought I told you to stay at the office,” Emma said casually.

“I talked my mom into letting me come along.” He looked over at Abigail and Nicole, who were holding hands and walking toward one of the parked cars. “You know, none of the fairy tales in the book have an ending like this,” Henry said. He thought for a moment and then added. “I like this one though.”

“It’s a happy ending, kid,” Emma said. “Can’t argue with one of those.”


End file.
